


Cycles

by killthefangirl



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Manipulation, Repetition, Sad TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), c!dream is soft in this but not bcs hes a good guy, exile arc, hes just good at emotional manipulation, i guess, just give it a chance, look this is kinda confusing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:29:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29810526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killthefangirl/pseuds/killthefangirl
Summary: A day in exile.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	Cycles

**Author's Note:**

> look i am very sleep deprived and angsty and still hung up on the exile arc despite the train wreck of a plotline that just happened at the prison

Tommy woke up drowning.

He opened his eyes to the cold stinging feel of salty water clouding his sight with blues and greens and the pressure in his chest begging him to take a breath. He contemplated staying under a little longer, letting the soft motions of the water lull him to sleep, but the incessant ache in his lungs refused to let up. He let disappointment swell in his chest for a second, and he closed his eyes for a brief moment, before steeling himself and forcing his eyes wide open.

He swam up, kicking away at the water with his exhausted legs until his head breached the surface and he took in a ragged breath coughing violently a few times before restraining himself. He struggled to the shore, arms aching and sight swimming with black dots as his mind was sluggishly catching up with his body.

He pulled himself onto the sand, all of his weight supported on shaky forearms, and heaved.

He stayed there for a while, sputtering and coughing up saltwater, drawing in shallow breaths every time his gagging let up for a second.

When his lungs were finally cleared up, he rolled onto his back exhausted, and watched the sky brighten as the sun rose over the horizon.

He didn’t quite recall how long he laid there for, but by the time he felt well enough to get up, the sky was already bright blue and the sun has mostly dried him.

He gingerly got up on shaky legs, testing out his balance, and when he was convinced he wouldn’t fall over after two steps, he started towards his tent not bothering to brush off residue sand from his clothes or hair.

He walked past Logsteadshire, sight barely catching on anything in the monotone browns of the empty village.

He hesitated at the entrance of his tent, tempted to lay down in the flimsy sheets on his rickety bed, but decided against it. He headed towards the tree line, determined to do _something_ before dream arrived.

He collected some wood, mind wandering, disregarding the rare forest creature or two that ran by as he carefully crafted a pickaxe.

He absentmindedly walked towards his mine and decided to spend his time there until Dream arrived.

He was in the middle of mining some coal, hands stained black and aching, the monotonous task making him forget about the concept of time, when he heard the echoing sound of shoes hitting stone as the green clad man slowly approached him. He didn’t look any different than he did the day before, unblinking painted on eyes of the mask never leaving the blondes form.

“Hello Tommy.”

He lowered his pickaxe and turned around, prepared to follow the man out of the mine.

“How are you today?”

He took a moment to appreciate the simplicity of the question. Dream didn’t demand anything too complicated from him when he visited. He knew what questions to ask and when and never pried too hard when Tommy didn’t want to talk.

In a way, he was kind of glad Dream was his only visitor. Everyone else wanted something from him back when they still visited. The wanted forgiveness or to feel better about themselves, whether it be by appeasing the guilt they felt by spending a day with him, or by making fun of him.

Doesn’t mean he still didn’t long to see their faces though.

“Hey Dream,” he lets a tired smile slip onto his face, “I’m just peachy. How ‘bout you?”

The visitor regarded his sorry state, mask unmoving, two lifeless dots staring holes into Tommy’s soul. He let out a noncommittal hum, apparently finding what he was searching for, as he took that moment to turn around and start walking out of the mine.

“I’m doing just fine. Now come on, we got work to do.”

Tommy watched the retreating form of his only friend for a few seconds, before his eyes darted to the side, followed shortly by his head turning and a quick huff of air escaping his lungs.

He spared the pickaxe in his hands a quick glance, then looked around for any materials he might’ve forgotten to pick up before following Dream to the clearing by the tnret.

He watched blankly as Dream dug a hole in the ground, slowly blinking as he took out the TNT and the flint and steel.

Dream glanced at him, stopped for a second as if waiting for a reaction, before nodding his head at him once to give the go ahead.

He didn’t really need to be told twice, already quietly emptying his inventory into the hole, barely sparing any of his gear a glance, methodically switching from slot to slot.

The whole ordeal was quiet and rehearsed, both participants going through each motion smoothly, working together like a well-oiled machine.

Tommy watched emotionlessly as Dream placed the TNT, taking a step back, more of a formality than a safety measure at this point, and watched as the wick slowly burned down and ignited the explosive. He barely flinched back, his instincts keeping him from standing completely still, watching entranced as a piece of shrapnel embedded itself in a nearby tree.

He stood still for a few more seconds, letting the ringing in his ears abate a little, before he felt a firm hand land on his shoulder, drawing him away from the remains of today’s work.

Dream led him back to the shore, sat him down on a grass block before lowering himself to the one right next to it.

They stayed that way for a while, both looking at the darkening skyline, watching the waves gently wash the sand away while fish darted around just below the surface.

“Do you think someone will visit tomorrow, Dream?”

His voice was soft, a little scratchy from disuse but barely above a whisper, afraid to disturb the peaceful atmosphere that has come over them.

The masked man didn’t turn to him at the inquiry and for a moment Tommy questioned if he even heard him, until he unexpectedly raised an arm and curled it around the blonde boy’s shoulders. He startled at first, surprised by the uncharacteristically gentle gesture, but then immediately melted into the embrace, letting his head loll against the soft green material of the older’s hoodie, soaking up every bit of positive attention like a particularly hungry dog.

The other merely tightened his hold before letting his arm go limp, resting on the faded red cloth covering the younger’s shoulder.

“I don’t know Tommy.”

The admission was equally soft, a comforting voice tinged with a hint of pity. Tommy didn’t want his pity, but he rarely got what he wanted these days and he was too exhausted to properly reprimand the other anyway.

Instead, he closed his eyes and imagined he was somewhere else.

He could still feel a warm body sitting next to his, the features blurry and distorted as if looking through a particularly warped kaleidoscope, though he could make out a brown patch of what he assumed was hair and a red line resting a little lower, around the neck of his featureless companion.

He could feel hard wooden planks digging into the underside oh his thighs and his lower back, wood not lined up quite perfectly but still reliable and sturdy.

The birds on an overhanging branch were chirping incessantly and a slight breeze ruffled his hair and dissipated the heat from the sun that was scorching his skin.

His surroundings were blurry, even less recognizable than the person sitting next to him, and were causing his head to throb and his eyes to water so he closed them and enjoyed the other sensations.

After some time, as he couldn’t quite tell how long it has been, Dream stood up and cast a look at the horizon before turning back to him and offering a hand.

He took it without hesitation, heaving himself up, joints cracking and stiff muscles stretching at the sudden movement. Dream let his hand drop and moved to stand next to him, eyes returning to the swirling currents of the water.

“I’ve gotta go now.”

The blonde looked at him, eyes trained to the side of the familiar porcelain mask, unwilling to let go but too tired to demand otherwise.

He nodded his head and gave a tired smile to his companion, turning his gaze back to the shoreline and whispering a quiet goodbye.

The older of the two walked forward, until his ankles were submerged in the cold river and took out his trident, the soft glow of enchantments reflecting off of the surface, swirling with the ripples in the water. He turned his head back to the blonde.

“Bye Tommy.”

He hesitated, but after a moment lifted his trident and jumped, leaving only ripples in the water and a lonely boy behind.

Tommy stared until he was nothing more than a dot on the horizon, stared until he disappeared, swallowed by the dark blue sky and getting lost between the stars, and then stared some more, until his eyelids started drooping and knees felt like buckling.

He slowly turned his back on the shore, feeling hollow, and stumbled through sand and dirt and grass to his tent and through the worn fabric flaps of the entrance.

He sat down heavily on the bed, then fell to his side, bare feet cold and dirty, arms hugging his torso, curled into a ball laying on crumpled sheets like a child seeking comfort.

He laid there and prayed, through hitching breaths and glossy eyes, through shaky arms and clenched teeth. He prayed for a bench under a tree, for a small shack on the side of a hill, for a wooden path and the voices of his friends.

He prayed and pleaded and let his tears silently spill down his cheeks, let the tremors lull him into a fitful sleep and let his dreams wander to a place he fought for, a country far away, a home he was forbidden. He let his breaths even out, his sobs cease, and his tears dry. He went quiet, mind resting and body slowing down.

And he smiled.

Tommy woke up drowning.


End file.
